A dark form crouched over her, his face an unmoving contrast of sharp angles. Blood seeped from a collar of thorns and the corners of his eyes, filling the greys of his sharp features with crimson.
He smiled, teeth black and rotten. A waft of rancid meat struck her and she felt her bile rising.
The still visage floated closer like lint on a sunbeam: back and forth, up and down; whimsical, beautiful, and terrifying.
A hand gripped her neck from behind and pinned her to the ground. His other roamed her stomach lifting her dress in a smooth, sensual but forceful caress.
Revulsion and silky desire rose in her. She fought, bucking and kicking to get him off but couldn’t move his anvil-sized weight.
His hand crept up, inch by agonizing inch.
He slapped her hard and she stilled, her face aching, a trickle of blood flowed from her lip.
She tasted copper and inevitability.
He looked down on the beautiful girl below him, her lip split and eyes spitting defiance, and smiled.
He gently wrapped his hand around her neck then tightened almost lovingly.
She gasped and struggled for breath and a sickly-sweet pain coursed through her chest.
Her heels drummed on the floor.
She screamed in silence; breath caught in her chest.
Chess shot awake, gasping, throat raw and tight as she worked to draw in a ragged lungful. Her jaw and teeth ached with the effort and her head felt like someone had stuck an icepick behind each eye and was pushing them in slowly.
“Lad...”
It took all her being to simply draw in a single ragged breath.
“Lady C...”
A spike slammed into each temple and she gripped the sides of her head, desperate to keep her brains inside.
“Lady Chess...”
Someone... is... talking. She tried to force her eyes open. Cracked, the light struck and lanced her eyes with their searing intensity. Her stomach heaved and she couldn’t fight it then coppery bile filled her mouth and trickled out the corners as she fought to keep it in. She failed then groaned and hurled again expanding the puddle her head marinated in.
The world tilted.
“...know...rong”
The ground tipped forward and blackness retook her.
----------------------------------------
She woke for but a moment to the sweet taste of water dripping on her lips then darkness.
----------------------------------------
Awake again, her head spun and she clenched her eyes firmly shut against the ache behind them. The dull ache felt old but she dared not risk it.
There was a murmur of voices and the echoing clomp of nearby hooves. The world folded in on her and she slipped into the dark again.
----------------------------------------
The world stilled and came into focus. Her mouth tasted chalky with her throat dry and gritty. It took her a moment to notice she wasn’t dreaming before she groaned and coughed while trying to ask for water. All that came out was a hoarse murmur.
“Sir, she’s awake,” a voice said from nearby.
“Finally, fool thing... Well, what are you waiting for? Give the lady some water,” another voice responded.
A hand gently gripped the back of her head and she jerked away. The world swam and she flopped impotently to the side letting out a ragged croak.
“Shh. It’s fine Chess. Serus is nice. He just wants to give you some water,” Ashley said quietly, her breath tickling Chess's ear.
She gave a slow half nod of acceptance, and the hand returned to lift her head gently.
Pure sweet water touched her lips, reinvigorating the desert of her mouth with pure bliss. A pleasant ache rolled through her with the life-giving liquid.
She managed a few mouthfuls before he laid her head back again. Sleep took her and this time no dreams haunted her.
----------------------------------------
When she woke she felt almost human again, the pain had left. Half-human, idiot.
Darkness entombed her, and she hesitated before she opened her eyes once more to find the world danced in the now-familiar greys of night.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
With a sigh, she sat up gingerly to get a better look around. The movement highlighted an ache in her stomach. It felt like she'd done too many situps the day before.
She found herself in a tent of some sort with canvas pulled taut over wooden poles. They'd wrapped her in a sleeping roll, and she pulled it down to find she only wore her bra and panties. Thank fuck no one stole them at least, she thought with a shudder.
A few deep and long breaths reassured her that the pain really had receded. All that remained was an empty ache in her belly and general stiffness.
She sat alone in the tent and listened to it creak in the wind for a while, enjoying being free of pain, before deciding to get up to find food.
After some shuffling and fighting with the blanket, she leveraged herself to her feet and looked around.
Her dress hung from a support line nearby and smelt of lye and lavender, the strong smell was distinct and pleasant to her new nose. Someone washed it, she thought running fingers through her hair.
Someone washed me... her heart stuttered to a stop, and she gasped, struggling to breathe, hyperventilating until she managed to sit back down on the pallet with her head between her knees, forcing herself to take deliberate and deep breaths.
They had Ashley do it, she told herself over and over.
Get your shit together, Chester! She thought sternly and stiffened her spine and clenched her jaw against the swirling emotions.
It worked, some, and allowed her to get up from the bed.
Then with stiff movements, she slipped the heavy woolen dress on over her head and pulled it down resolutely.
A further search of the tent revealed hers and Ashley’s packs, along with her staff. When she held the staff close to her breast for a long minute, the wood's solid weight felt reassuring, despite the short time she’d had it.
She reluctantly put it aside to pull on her boots before taking it up again and approaching the tent flap.
It opened out into a neatly arranged camp. Half a dozen tents spaced precisely around a low burning fire that had burnt down to glowing amber coals that cast muted whites and greys about the small clearing. The camp sat in stillness only interrupted by the comforting sound of men snoring as she panned her vision around.
Her ears picked up the sound of a body readjusting close by and she turned towards it, finding a large form leaning against a tree and strode over.
He turned towards her at the sound of her approach.
“Milady,” he said with a short bow.
She peered into his face, finding the grizzled and scarred visage of the sergeant from the day before.
“Sergeant?” she asked giving him a nod.
“Hilkan, ma’am. Most just call me, Kan," he said.
“Kan then," she conceded with a frown. "What happened?”
“Since the fight?” he asked and Chess nodded.
“We set camp and cleaned the mess. Lord Caldur left your scarecrow though. Mean work that, by the way. We were unsure if your magic would retaliate if we disturbed him," he explained while his eyes scanned the forest in front of him.
His voice was a soothing baritone that warmed the air about him with its tone, and she turned so she stood shoulder to shoulder with the man and didn’t block his view.
The forest looked sinister in the greys and blacks the meager moonlight allowed to her vision but she found the man's calm confidence soothing.
“They are just plants if I’m not using them. Just a little thorny,” she offered after the pause.
“Thanks, he’s starting to get ripe. I'll have the men deal with him when the sun’s up,” he said, gesturing behind himself vaguely.
“How long have I been out? And where is Ashley?” she asked softly, keeping her spine stiff to lend her confidence. Her belly betrayed her by letting out a protesting gurgle.
“You slept two full days. Your ward should be asleep in Serus’ tent,” he explained.
She turned to him and raised an eyebrow before she realized he probably couldn’t see her face in the meager light.
He barked a small laugh and shook his head regardless. “Don’t worry about the lad, he's a good one. She’s been following him around helping with his chores all day. Besides, your ward hasn’t had her awakening yet,” he said like that explained everything. I suppose it might, Chess thought. The Knight might castrate him if he did anything like that. I need to figure out the honor and taboo systems of this culture. It’s a good sign she’s actually engaging with people again though.
“Two days, Freya’s tits, why?” she muttered shaking her head.
“Freya?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My patron, she has nice tits,” she waved him off.
He chuckled. “Lord Caldur figures you were suffering from over-mana and exhaustion. It’s a dangerous mix."
“Over-mana?” she asked, baffled.
“Shit girl, no one ever teach you anything? With mana intense skills like your plant manipulation, it's easy to oversaturate your body with ambient mana. That shit’s toxic if you don’t give it time to disburse fully. Mix it with overwork and not sleeping properly…” He shook his head. “You’re lucky to recover so quickly. You had it bad. You must have a decent constitution."
“13,” she said without thinking.
He sucked in a breath and shook his head in wonder. “That’s high for a woman, I only have four points on you and I’ve worked at it my whole life. Slim thing like you? Figured you’d be around a 9. Though it could be your half-breed nature," he allowed.
High? Chess thought, a thrill going through her. What the hell did you do, Freya? If 13 is considered high for a woman, what does that mean for the rest of my stats; 13 is my lowest, she wondered.
I stood no chance against the strength of that man last night. Two nights ago, she tempered her elation, then shuddered.
I need to learn about over-mana, another thing for the list.
“Ashley told you?” Chess asked him.
He nodded confirmation. “And your ears aren’t a full-blood’s; they're not long enough. Sometimes half-breeds get lucky and get the best from both parents. I have a little bear in me, not that you could tell by looking; a great-grandparent. It gives me a higher natural strength and stronger bones."
Her stomach made an even louder gurgle, and Kan turned a grin on her.
“There is a little stew in the pot. You should help yourself, just be sure to take it slow,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the fire.
“Thanks, Kan, I will,” she said, following his gesture. Her gaze caught on the burning embers for a minute before she turned back to him.
“Hey, a quick question. Do you sing? You have a natural voice for it,” she asked.
“Aye, Milady, I do,” he said, turning to grin at her.
“Great! Would you be willing to teach me some of the local songs? All I know are songs from back home, and they are in a different tongue. Perhaps tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ll see if I can find the time, you can teach me a couple of yours in exchange. Now, go get something into that belly of yours,” he admonished.
Her stomach agreed while he spoke, and she nodded and grinned sheepishly.
The conversation with Kan had helped to settle her frayed nerves, and despite her feverish ache in her limbs, she felt more centered and in control.
After helping herself to a bowl of the hearty stew, she sat listening to the fire snap and pop and ate before crawling back into her tent and bedroll. She fell into a deep restful sleep while clutching her staff tight to her chest like a child with its blankie.